


out of sight

by bertee



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Psychics/Psionics, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Abuse, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-15 17:58:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5794270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertee/pseuds/bertee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jared's quiet evening at home is derailed by the runaway psychic napping on his couch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	out of sight

The rain was showing no signs of stopping by the time Jared made it home.

As always, the radio crackled and died as the car coasted down the driveway, this time partway through _Losing My Religion_ , and Jared hummed the rest of the verse to himself before killing the engine. After an optimistic pause to see whether the rain would go from biblical to merely torrential, he held his jacket over his pizza box and then the pizza box over his head before making the final run from his car to his door.

As umbrellas went, a waterproof pizza box wasn't particularly effective and Jared shook his damp hair out of his face as he fumbled for his keys. "Jesus…"

With a crow of triumph, he located the key and shoved the door open, hustling in out of the rain as quick as he could. The warmth of his house was a welcome change and he toed his boots off, wandered past the guy sleeping on his couch and flicked the lights on in the kitchen to see what he could salvage of his pizza.

His wet jeans stuck to his calves when he came to a stop by the kitchen counter and he wrinkled his nose at the cold press of denim as he reached up to grab a plate.

He stopped with his hand on the cabinet door.

The muddy boots, wet jeans and potentially damp pizza were all par for the course but a jolt of unease went through him when his brain backtracked enough to realize that a strange guy sleeping on his couch was not a normal occurrence.

(Not since Misha had moved out and gotten married, at least.)

Suddenly grateful for his grandmother's strange choice in Christmas gifts, he located his rolling pin and held it like a bat as he crept back through the kitchen to peer out into the living room.

While a stranger breaking into his house was never a good thing, Jared was relieved to note that at least the stranger in question looked smaller, weaker and less well-armed than he was. The guy was soaked from the rain, curled up in a protective huddle beneath an equally soaked jacket, and if it hadn't been Jared's couch he was nestled on, Jared would've almost felt sorry for him.

"Hey!"

The guy's brow crinkled at the shout and he blinked his eyes open sleepily to investigate the source of the noise. 

He tumbled off the couch in a panicked rush when his eyes landed on Jared (and his not unimpressive rolling pin.)

"I- I'm sorry," the guy stammered, backing up against Jared's patio doors. "Please, I- I'll go. I'm sorry."

Jared was honestly expecting more of a fight.

Still fueled by outrage over the intrusion, he kept his rolling pin raised as he asked, "What the hell are you doing here?"

The guy flinched at the shout. His jacket lay on the floor, lost in the scramble, and Jared glanced down at the grey of the guy's long-sleeved uniform. It was somewhere between police and military but as much as recognition tugged at the back of Jared's brain, it didn't crystallize into an answer.

"I was cold," the guy said, timid enough to sway Jared's guesses about his career away from 'trained killer'. "I thought maybe I could sleep and be gone before anyone got home."

"Guess it's been a resounding failure on that front," Jared said. "That doesn't explain what you're doing on your own all the way out here."

"I'm not here to cause any trouble," the guy pleaded. "I swear."

"Gee, at least now I know what you're not doing here," Jared said with feigned cheerfulness."How about telling me what you _are_ doing here?"

The guy lowered his eyes, shoulders hunched in. He was pale enough that he looked like he'd either seen a ghost or was halfway to becoming one himself but he pulled himself together enough to say quietly, "I ran away."

"Ran away?" Jared raised his eyebrows. "From what?"

"My handler." He said it like Jared should've known the answer already and then peered up at him in confusion. "You don't know what I am?"

Jared really hoped the answer wasn't 'escaped psychopath'.

"Not a clue," he said, trying to sound as confident in his ignorance as he possibly could. "You wanna enlighten me?"

"I'm with the PCS," the guy said, watching Jared's face for his reaction. The acronym nudged at his brain but didn't shake loose an answer until the guy continued, nervous but resigned, "I'm a psychic."

"Huh." 

The uniform and acronym -- _Psychic Consultancy Squad_ \-- finally clicked into place in his head but after a long day on site, Jared had trouble processing this latest development in the weirdness that had taken over his evening. Nevertheless, he tried for a smile as he lowered the rolling pin. "You want some pizza?"

 

****

+++

Psychics, as it turned out, weren't allowed pizza. 

To hear the guy -- apparently just named 'Jensen' -- tell it, they weren't allowed much more than bread and gruel on the basis that a richer diet could affect their abilities. However, Jared couldn't see any side effects when Jensen tucked in to his second slice of pizza with a grateful moan.

He still wasn't totally convinced that Jensen wasn't a murderous psychopath but he was damp, exhausted and generally fragile-looking enough that Jared figured he could at least make some conversation while he decided on his next course of action.

"So the PCS is like law enforcement, right?" Jared said, reaching for his fourth slice. "Like the FBI or DEA or something?" Jensen looked up at him, still tucked up on the couch, and Jared admitted, "Okay, so most of my knowledge comes from TV."

Jensen's brow creased. "We're on TV?"

"Yeah, I'm sure one of those procedural shows has a psychic in it." He tapped his fingers against his knee as he tried to remember. " _Alice Aforethought_! There's a hot redhead who works with the cops to solve crimes. Sometimes before they happen. It's pretty neat."

Jensen nibbled at his pizza. "I can't see the future," he said. "Maybe some of us can but I was never trained for that."

"You still work with the cops, right?" Jared asked. "What kind of stuff do you see if not the future?"

"The past, mostly," Jensen said. "The police call up the PCS and then the PCS sends out a psychic and a handler to help them. We can solve crimes, figure out whether someone's guilty, help track down missing people, that kind of thing."

"Neat," Jared said. "Why do you need a handler if you can see all that? Can't you just show up and do your thing?"

Jensen looked down at his hands and Jared got the impression that he was choosing his words carefully when he said, "We need to be supervised. The agency, they invested a lot of money in raising us, training us, protecting our gifts-"

"Like not letting you eat pizza?"

Jensen gave a tiny nod. "Whenever we're out of the Center, we have a handler with us at all times. They're supposed to maintain discipline and make sure we don't use our gifts when we haven't been authorised to."

"And they're supposed to make sure you don't run away," Jared guessed. 

Jensen glanced up at that, inching a fraction further back on the couch, and Jared held up his hand in apology. "Hey, you knew I was gonna have to ask at some point. Why did you ditch your handler?" He looked out to where the rain was still pounding on the window. "And how did you get yourself the whole way out here? Did you jump out of a moving car or something?"

It was a joke (mostly) but that didn't make Jensen look any less nervous as he tugged his sleeves down over his hands. "I- We were working over in Red Falls. A man was suspected of murdering his sister and they needed us to help find her body."

Jared blinked. "Is that what you're doing here? There's a body in my backyard?"

"No," Jensen said, "she was buried out by the quarries to the west of Red Falls."

"Red Falls?" Jared frowned as he calculated the distance. "That's gotta be nearly ten miles from here. You walked all that? In this weather?"

"It wasn't raining when I left," Jensen said quietly.

Jared snagged another slice of pizza with a shake of his head. "Jesus. You must've had one hell of a reason for running."

"I don't," Jensen whispered, not looking up. "Everything was the same, _he_ was the same but I- I just couldn't take it anymore."

Jared set his pizza down as he leaned forward. "Couldn't take what?"

"Any of it," Jensen said, sounding wretched. "The Center, my handler, the job… I just- I needed to get out."

"How did you get away?" Jared asked. "I thought your handler was meant to stay with you."

"He was so angry," Jensen said, sounding dazed as he stared, unseeing, at the table. "I talked back to him in front of the detectives, corrected him about something, and he was furious." 

He curled his fingers unconsciously around his wrist and Jared swallowed as he filled in the blanks of Jensen's relationship with his handler. 

"He sent me back to the hotel," Jensen continued. "He said he'd deal with me later, once he was finished talking to the detectives. The hotel wasn't far -- I knew the way -- but I- I just kept walking." His eyes were wet when he looked up at Jared and begged, "Please don't turn me in. Please, I'll leave, I'll never tell anyone I was here, I swear."

He stopped talking when Jared held his hand up and Jared took the opportunity to backtrack. It was one thing hearing about the innermost workings of a government-sponsored psychic organization; it was another hearing that those workings apparently left guys like Jensen at the mercy of their handlers.

"Slow down a second," Jared said, trying to sound as calm as he could. "What does 'deal with you' mean?"

"Handlers are supposed to maintain discipline," Jensen repeated, confused.

"And how do they do that?" Jared prompted. He felt bad making Jensen spell it out, especially when he had a relatively good idea of what methods would be involved, but if he was going to protect the guy who broke into his house, he figured he should at least know what he was protecting him from. "What are they allowed to do to you?"

"Whatever they like," Jensen said, tucking himself up smaller on the couch. "My handler prefers removing privileges for small infractions and physical discipline for larger ones." His hands trembled as he tucked them between his knees. "For the most severe infractions, he, uh- He favors dunking."

"Dunking." 

Jared's first (stupid) thought ran to donuts but he was soon corrected when Jensen added in a failed attempt at mitigation, "He always makes sure the water's not hot enough to scald."

"Right," Jared said faintly as his pizza threatened to put in a reappearance. "No scalding. That's crucial." He swallowed down his nausea. "And you running away, this would count as a severe infraction?"

"Talking back to him in front of the detectives was a severe infraction," Jensen said softly. "This- I don't know what this is."

"Christ," Jared muttered, running a hand through his hair when Jensen shrank back against the cushions.

"Please," Jensen begged again, "please don't tell him I'm here. I'll leave -- no-one has to know."

"I'm not gonna turn you in," Jared said. "And I'm not letting you go back out in that goddamn monsoon either. You already look like you're about three seconds away from catching pneumonia." He sighed. "You can stay the night here -- we can figure out what to do in the morning."

Jensen blinked in disbelief. "You'd really let me stay?"

"Sure," Jared said. He didn't have much clue what to do once they got to breakfast the next morning but it was still a better alternative than tossing Jensen back out in the rain. "How about we get you some dry clothes and a good night's sleep and figure it out from there?"

Jensen stared at him like he'd grown a second head. (From the awe on his face, it was a very attractive second head but a second head nonetheless.) 

"Thank you," he said, quiet but utterly sincere. "I- I don't know how to repay you-"

"No repayment necessary," Jared cut in. "Just take it easy, okay?" He stood, snagging the second-to-last slice of pizza for the journey upstairs. "C'mon, let's go get you some dry clothes."

 

****

+++

Shepherding Jensen between a hot shower and a fresh set of clothes wasn't the easiest thing in the world, given Jensen's tendency to stay out of arm's reach and Jared's constant awareness that Jensen needed some privacy after being supervised for years. However, it was definitely worth it when Jensen came padding downstairs with messy hair, rosy cheeks and all his bruises hidden away beneath Jared's old hoodie and sweatpants.

"Well, that's an improvement," Jared teased as Jensen curled back up in his spot at the end of the couch. "The drowned-rat look wasn't really working for you."

Jensen smiled at him, still twitchy and shy, and Jared gave him a broader smile back by way of encouragement. He was actually pretty good-looking now that he wasn't soaking wet, with big dark eyes and full lips (albeit in a too thin face), and Jared found himself wondering if attractiveness was a side effect of psychic powers. 

"I put your clothes in the kitchen," he said, smoothing down the legs of his own sweats. "they should dry out by morning."

"Thank you," Jensen said quietly. "Really."

"No problem," Jared said. He wasn't entirely sure of the legal position on sheltering a runaway psychic but decided he could google it later. "You want some coffee or something?"

Jensen shook his head. "I'm not allowed coffee."

"Like you weren't allowed pizza?" Jensen tensed up, painfully self-conscious, and Jared regretted the almost-joke. "Sorry," he said quickly. "Look, if coffee's off the table, do you want some more water?"

"No, thank you," Jensen said, docile and polite, and Jared settled himself in his armchair as he looked at him afresh.

"I gotta ask," he said curiously, "how do these powers of yours work? How do you see the past? Do you just focus on something and boom, it appears?"

Jensen shook his head again, curling his hands in his sleeves. "No, I- it's everywhere. I see echoes, I guess. Like memories of the places I go." Jared frowned and he explained further, "I catch flickers of things. Like here, I can see you by that wall, wallpapering over some orange paint. Your hair's shorter and you're wearing a Team USA shirt." His brow knitted together. "Maybe from the Olympics? 2008?"

Jared raised his eyebrows. "Holy shit. Yeah, I redecorated when I moved in that summer." He leaned forward. "That's amazing. What else can you see?"

Jensen didn't falter as his gaze dropped to the floor. "There's another man sleeping on a beanbag chair. Dark hair, wearing a reindeer sweater and a paper hat."

"Misha," Jared filled in. "My old roommate. That must've been a couple of Christmases ago." He looked at Jensen in disbelief. "So you see this stuff all the time?"

"Wherever I go," Jensen said.

"How do you know what's real?" he asked. "How do you know I'm what's happening now?"

"They train us to focus," Jensen said. "The present is stronger than the past, it's clearer -- I just have to tune the rest out. Well, unless there's something I'm looking for in the past, I guess," he added. "Missing people, bodies, murder weapons, that kind of thing."

Jared grimaced. "Man, it's gotta be rough seeing all that."

Jensen's smile was tight. "It's what I was trained for."

"Even still," Jared said, "it sounds exhausting, seeing so much stuff all the time. I can barely keep up with my regular life, let alone the every movement of strangers." 

He reached out to give Jensen a sympathetic pat on the shoulder but Jensen pressed himself back against the couch sharply. "No, don't-"

Jared froze, lowering his hand back to his side, and Jensen let out a shaky breath, shame coloring his cheeks again. "I- I'm sorry," he stammered. "I just- You shouldn't touch me."

"It's okay," Jared said. "I won't touch you. I'm sorry." Surprised by the vehemence of Jensen's reaction, he peered at him. "Does something happen if I do?"

Jensen nodded, not budging from his protective huddle. "I see echoes of people too," he said. "It only happens when I touch them but it's stronger than with places. There's all those memories and feelings and wants -- it's overwhelming."

Curiosity sparked inside Jared's veins and despite knowing better, his hand itched to reach out and brush Jensen's fingers. "What does it feel like?"

"I don't know," Jensen admitted. "People always seem relieved when I let go though."

"What about you?" Jared asked. "What does it feel like for you?"

Jensen looked utterly miserable when he admitted, "Like I'm suffocating."

"Is there any way around it?" Jared asked. "Some kind of immunity or something?"

"Nothing I've ever found," Jensen said. "Maybe the PCS has a cure somewhere but they've never told me anything."

"What about your handler? He must have to touch you sometimes." Jared tried not to think about how that touching probably involved holding Jensen's head underwater as punishment for some perceived 'infraction'. "Is he immune?"

"Just adapted," Jensen said. "They're around us so long that they get used to how it feels."

"Do you get used to it too?" Jared asked. "Or does it still feel as bad with them as it does with other people?"

"It's the same," Jensen said with an awkward little shrug. "Part of the job, I guess."

"Man, that's a shitty job," Jared said with a wince. "There's no chance of you quitting, huh?"

The joke fell flat but he appreciated that Jensen tried for a polite smile anyway. "I think there's about a fifty year notice period."

He looked exhausted as he rested his head against the back of the couch and Jared pushed himself to his feet with a yawn. "Get some sleep, okay?" He patted the stack of blankets and cushions on the chair. "You gonna be all right to sleep on the couch?"

"The couch is great," Jensen said. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Jared said, restraining himself from patting him on the shoulder. "Just yell if you need anything."

Jensen nodded, pulling the blanket over himself with a sleepy groan, and Jared flicked the light off as he said, "Sleep well, man."

He made a mental note for the morning to ask Jensen whether psychics dreamed.

 

****

+++

Jared woke at 3:13am to an insistent pounding on his front door.

By the time he made it out of bed, into a sweater and downstairs, Jensen was already tucked between the door and the wall with a look of sheer panic on his face.

"It's him," Jensen whispered, curling his fingers in his sleeves. "Oh, god, I should've known. I never should've run." He looked at the door like it was about to eat him alive. "He's going to kill me."

"It's okay," Jared said, half-asleep and struggling to remember why there was a potential killer knocking on his door. "No-one's gonna kill you." He scrubbed a hand across his face. "Look, just stay in the kitchen. Stay out of sight. Whoever it is, I'll get rid of them."

With one final glance at the door, Jensen went running through to the kitchen and Jared straightened up with a sigh. The hammering on the door continued and he tried to look as sleepy and innocent as possible as he pulled it open. "Hello?"

His efforts didn't seem to be appreciated by the man standing on the other side. He was in a suit rather than a uniform but the dark grey pin on his lapel matched to the logo on Jensen's clothes, making it a safe guess that this was the handler Jared had heard so much about. He was flanked by two uniformed cops and Jared swallowed as he looked between the three of them. "Can I help you?"

"My name is Agent Weatherly," the handler said coolly. "These are officers Wilson and Tan. Could we please come inside?"

Jared kept a firm grip on the door. "Why?" he asked, aiming for as non-confrontational a tone as possible. "Did something happen?"

"We're here regarding a missing person," Weatherly said. "We believe the individual in question may have passed through here and we'd like to ask you some questions."

Jared frowned. "Sorry, man, no-one's been through here that I've seen."

Weatherly didn't look surprised by his answer. "Would you mind these officers taking a look inside to verify that?" His gaze traveled past Jared to the inside of the house. "It's important that we locate this individual as soon as possible."

"You're kidding, right?" Jared said around a yawn. "Look, I live alone and it's three o'clock in the morning. You're welcome to come poke around tomorrow -- I'll make you guys coffee and everything -- but how about you let me get some sleep now, huh?"

Weatherly's smile was as cold as the wind whipping past outside. "I appreciate how inconvenient this timing is," he said, "but we do need to check the whole area and since yours is the only property in the vicinity…"

"You seriously wanna search my house?" Jared rubbed his eyes. "It's a small place. I think I'd know if there was another person here." He leaned against the doorjamb, blocking their entry. "What's the deal with this missing person anyway? Is it a kid or something? Can't it wait 'til the morning?"

"This is the man in question," Weatherly said, holding up a picture of Jensen. 

It was clearly an official one -- Jensen was younger, straight-faced and in uniform -- and Jared tried to keep the recognition off his face when he shrugged. "Never seen him."

"As I said," Weatherly repeated, his patience wearing thin, "we believe he may have passed through here. He is extremely dangerous and may be hiding somewhere on your property -- it's for your own safety that we need to check."

"And as I said," Jared reiterated, "I think I'd know if there was another person in my house." He inched back, keeping his hand on the door as he went to close it. "Look, guys, just come back tomorrow, okay? I gotta get some slee-"

Weatherly's foot landed squarely on his carpet before he could close the door the rest of the way. 

"My apologies, Mr…"

"Padalecki," Jared said, narrowing his eyes and not stepping back from the door.

"Mr Padalecki," Weatherly continued, smooth and confident, "but we're going to need to check your property." His smile was brittle. "I'm sure you understand."

He shoved the door the rest of the way open and strode inside before Jared could close it.

"Hey!" Jared snapped. "You can't just barge in here-"

"I'm afraid we can," Weatherly said with feigned regret as the officers trooped in after him. "PCS prerogative. We're authorized to use any means necessary to retrieve our operatives."

"Operatives?" Jared said, pacing around to stop them going into the lounge (and subsequently the kitchen). "Look, I don't know what you're into but-"

"Please stay out of our way, Mr Padalecki," Weatherly said curtly. He gestured to the two officers, sending them both running upstairs, and Jared ran a hand through his hair as he tried to think whether there was anything incriminating up there. 

Jensen had stuck to water instead of coffee, so the two drinks in different mugs were suitably explicable. He'd used Jared's shampoo and a spare towel, both not out of the ordinary, but as Weatherly pushed past him into the lounge, he wasn't sure how he was going to explain the bedding on the couch.

"I, uh-" 

Jared trailed off as he followed him through to see that the couch was clear. The cushions were neatly stacked and the blankets were folded on the armchair, as though no-one had slept there at all.

"I get cold when I'm watching TV sometimes," Jared said quickly. "It's a good house but not always the best at holding in heat in weather like this."

Weatherly shot him a dismissive glare and headed for the kitchen, where Jensen and Jensen's easily identifiable uniform were currently being hidden.

"Wait!" Jared yelled. 

Weatherly paused, barely disguising his impatience, and Jared eased himself between him and the kitchen as he said, "Y'know, it's starting to come back to me. I remember when I was driving home, I saw something moving in the bushes down near the creek." 

Weatherly's stare was flat. "You saw something moving."

"Yeah," Jared said, doing his best to sell it. "It was big, y'know? I figured it was just a deer or something -- I couldn't see it too well, what with the rain and it being dark and all -- but if your guy's out there, maybe it was him."

Weatherly hesitated. His eyes stayed on Jared's, icy and suspicious, but before Jared could start to worry whether he was psychic too, he asked, "Where's this creek?"

"A mile or so down south," Jared said. "Runs right by the road. You can't miss it." He checked the clock. "That was hours ago now though. I don't know how far he might've gotten in this rain."

"Thank you for your assistance," Weatherly said, in a tone that sounded anything but grateful. "We'll look into it as soon as we're finished here."

He sidestepped Jared and walked into the kitchen before Jared could stop him.

Jared froze, braced for shouting and violence followed by his own arrest and/or murder, but he blinked when Weatherly came back out a second later. 

"Thank you for your time, Mr Padalecki," he said calmly. "We may be in touch again to take a statement."

"Statement?" Jared blinked, looking between Weatherly and the kitchen. "Statement. Right. Yeah."

Weatherly strolled out to the hallway to wait for the officers to come back down and Jared poked his head around the kitchen door in stunned confusion. The clothes and Jensen were both gone, leaving nothing but an empty pizza box on the counter, and Jared stared in disbelief as Weatherly cleared his throat behind him.

"Thank you again, Mr Padalecki," he said coldly, setting his card on the table. "Please get in touch if you have any more sudden recollections."

"I, uh- Sure," Jared said, thoroughly flummoxed and not certain that Jensen had ever actually existed. "I'll do that. Goodnight."

Weatherly rolled his eyes. "Goodnight, Mr Padalecki. We'll see ourselves out."

He swept out, followed closely by the two officers, and Jared's hands shook with relief as he locked the door behind them.

He rushed through to the kitchen but felt like an idiot when he called quietly, "Jensen? Jensen, you here?"

There was no response. 

Jared looked around, lost. "Jensen? They're gone -- you can come out." He frowned. "Uh, if you're still here."

He jumped at the sound of a thump coming from the other side of the kitchen and traced the noise as it continued. "Jensen?"

"I'm here!" 

Jensen's voice was muffled and Jared crouched down by the wrinkled corner of a worn-out rug in the corner of the room. Realization dawned and he grinned as he pulled back the corner of the rug to reveal the trapdoor underneath. He'd used it a lot when he moved in, back before he'd installed the extra cupboards in his bedroom, but ever since it had fallen into disuse.

Dust came puffing out when he raised the door and Jared coughed as he looked down to where Jensen was crouched in the dark. His uniform -- still damp -- was tucked in his arms and Jared smiled at him in amazement. "How did you know this was here? Even I forgot about it."

Jensen stood up. "I'm psychic, remember?" he said shyly. "I saw you hauling something out of here -- suitcases, I think? -- and figured it was worth a shot." He peered around the trapdoor. "They're gone?"

"They're gone," Jared promised. "Was that him? Your handler?"

Jensen's face was pale when he pulled himself up out of his hiding place. "Yeah," he murmured. "Yeah, that's him."

"Seems like a really great guy," Jared said sarcastically. "Very polite, very reasonable."

Jensen smiled colorlessly as he sat on the edge of the storage hole. "Sounds like him." 

He wiped dust off his pants before making to stand and Jared reached down, still buzzing with adrenaline from nearly getting caught. "Come on," he said, clasping Jensen's arm, "let me help you up."

Peace sluiced over him at the first touch. 

It was like flying, like having everything in his mind replaced by a thick haze of bliss that sank down deep into his bones. It was serenity and euphoria all in one and he floated in the sensations in frozen disbelief as he stared at Jensen.

He plummeted back to reality the second Jensen pulled away.

Jensen scrambled backwards, wide-eyed and terrified as he pressed himself back against the cabinets, and he held his arm to his chest when he stammered, "I- What-"

"I'm sorry," Jared said, putting a hand out to keep his balance. "I forgot about the touching. I- I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

Jensen still looked panicked as he stayed as far away as the kitchen would allow. "What are you?"

Jared frowned. "I work in construction? I'm a Leo? I don't-" He paused long enough to gather his wits. "Why are you asking? Is that not what it normally feels like when you touch someone?"

Jensen shook his head. "I- I've never felt like that before." He pushed himself up on shaking legs but didn't move away from the corner he'd tucked himself in. "Did you feel it?"

"I guess?" Jared said. The sensation had faded as fast as it had appeared and he struggled to remember much beyond mindless elation. "It felt good? I was here and I could see you but my mind just… Everything felt calm and peaceful, like I was floating inside my head. You?"

"I couldn't see anything," Jensen said, shellshocked. "I mean, I saw you but no memories, no echoes, nothing. Not even from the house." He took a step forward as he looked up at him. "How did you do that?"

"I don't know," Jared said honestly. "Has it ever happened to you before?"

"Never." Jensen's eyes didn't leave Jared's hands as he approached. "I- Can we try again? Can I touch you?"

"Sure," Jared said, holding his hand out with a smile. "Be gentle with me?"

Jensen smiled back as he reached out to take his hand. 

The rush was just as strong the second time, the same perfect serenity enveloping him and Jensen like a cocoon, and Jared breathed through the contentment of it as he met Jensen's eyes. He took his other hand, slipping his fingers up under his sleeve to rest against the inside of his wrist, and moved in closer as he murmured, "It feels good. Peaceful."

"For me too," Jensen said, his smile widening in delight. "You're the only thing I can see."

Jared moved his hand to Jensen's hip, his fingers brushing the sliver of skin between the rucked-up hoodie and the top of his sweats. The sensation stayed constant, anchored around them by the touch of skin to skin, and Jared couldn't look away from the green of Jensen's eyes when he asked, only half-teasing, "Did you hypnotize me?"

The stress ebbed from Jensen's body as he smiled, looking younger and happier than he had all evening. "No," he said, moving in close, "but I was about to ask you the same thing." 

He touched Jared's forearm with his free hand, tensing as though expecting a shock, but instantly calmed when there were no ill effects. His hand moved up over Jared's skin, curling around his bicep and then up to cup his cheek as Jensen blinked in amazement. "How are you doing this?"

"No idea," Jared said, too relaxed to think about the details. Jensen was right in front of him, with his soft hands and pink mouth, and Jared shifted his hand around to Jensen's back, easing up under the hoodie to cover his tailbone as his eyes lingered on his lips. "I guess we're just a good match?"

He swallowed, soothed a little by the tiny twist of nerves that crept through him when he leaned in. Jensen didn't back off, just held his gaze, and Jared asked before he could stop himself, "Can I kiss you?"

He almost wanted to add an explanation, a defence that it was just an experiment, but as Jensen looked up at him with big dark eyes, it wasn't so easy to brush it away under the cover of science. 

"Yes," Jensen said, shy enough that Jared wondered whether he'd ever been kissed before. "I- You can kiss me."

Those big eyes drifted closed when Jared did just that. Jensen's lips were as soft as the fingertips resting against Jared's jaw, and Jared tipped his head to kiss him deeper, working away the lingering tension thrumming through Jensen. For what was potentially his first kiss, Jensen wasn't half bad at it, meeting Jared's tongue with his own in smooth, eager strokes, but he relaxed further when Jared took the lead. 

The peaceful bubble stayed firmly in place around them, wrapping them both in happiness, and when they broke apart, the dazed little smile on Jensen's lips was the best thing Jared had seen in months.

"I-" Jensen blinked, a pink flush painting his cheeks. "That was good."

He almost sounded surprised and Jared kissed him on the cheek as he teased, "I should hope so." 

Conscious that his hands were still on his body, he straightened up and offered a warning, "You gonna be okay if I let go?"

Jensen nodded, his smile fading, and Jared stepped back to break the contact. The jolt of separation was less violent now that he knew it was coming but he still needed to lean against the counter to catch his breath. 

"Huh." He flashed Jensen a smile, still spiraling down from the high of contact. "We should probably look into that."

Jensen's smile grew tighter as he rubbed his eyes with a barely concealed shiver and sympathy curled in Jared's chest at the realization that Jensen's abilities were back now that they weren't touching.

"I should go," Jensen said quietly, pulling Jared's hoodie down over his hands again. "He's going to figure it out. He'll come back."

"Weatherly?" As much as Jared wanted to tell himself otherwise, he knew his story wouldn't keep him fooled for long. "Maybe he bought it? I mean, he and the cops searched the place and they couldn't find you. You really think they'd try again?"

"Yes," Jensen said without hesitation. "They made me -- they're not gonna just let me go." He worried his lip between his teeth as he looked through to the front door. "I shouldn't have run."

"But then you would've missed out on meeting me," Jared teased. "That would've been a tragedy."

"It would," Jensen said, smiling in spite of himself, "but if they find out you were hiding me-"

"I'll be fine," Jared said, unwilling to let Jensen just go running back outside, possibly into one of Weatherly's traps. "Let me help you."

"No," Jensen said. "You've already done enough for me. I shouldn't have come here -- you didn't choose this."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you didn't choose this either," Jared pointed out, moving in again even as he was careful not to touch him. "You said it yourself, you've never felt like you do when we touch. It's brand new for me too -- just stick around until we figure it out?"

Jensen inched backwards, arms folded across his body. "I can't. He-"

"I can hide you."

Jensen stared. "Hide me?"

"I, uh-" Jared cleared his throat. "There's somewhere you could stay. A cabin, way up in the mountains."

"You mean this isn't way up in the mountains?"

"Further," he promised. "Although calling it a cabin might be kind of a stretch. It's tiny and the roof leaks sometimes but I built it. No-one else even knows it's there. You'll be safe there, at least for a while."

Jensen hesitated and he pushed, "Come on, man. Don't tell me you're not curious about what this thing is between us. Four walls and a roof has to be better than staying out in that rain." He gave him his best attempt at an optimistic smile. "And from what you told me, pretty much anything has to be better than staying with your handler."

Jensen deliberated for a long moment but Jared nearly cheered in relief when he spoke again, "How far away is your cabin?" 

"Half a day's hike," he said. "We set out at first light, we can be there by noon."

"And you'd really do that?" Jensen asked, somewhere between skeptical and hopeful. "Even when you know they're looking for me?"

"Especially because I know they're looking for you," Jared said. "Even without the whole-" He wrinkled his nose. "-discipline thing, your handler seems like an asshole." 

He moved in again. "I know we just met but I don't want you to get hurt, okay? I like to think of myself as a decent guy and tossing you out to the rain and the wolves isn't something I'm down with."

"There are wolves?"

"Metaphorical wolves," Jared said quickly. "Still not a thing I want you to have to encounter if you can avoid them." He gave him a hopeful smile. "You with me?"

Jensen smiled back, still nervous but gradually inching out of his shell. "Okay," he said softly. "I'll try your cabin."

"Thank you," Jared said honestly. He held his hand out, feeling peace sweep over him again when Jensen took it. The grin came easily to his lips, his whole body feeling lighter under Jensen's touch. "What do you say we go kick your handler's butt at hide and seek?"

Jensen peered out of the kitchen window at the rain that lashed the house in the darkness. "Maybe we should wait until sunrise?"

The wind roared outside in agreement. 

"Okay, definitely on board with that plan," Jared said with a nod. "We'll kick butt when we're less likely to fall over a log and break our necks."

Jensen laughed as he moved in closer to rest his hand against Jared's arm. While they'd covered contact, actual hugging was a shiny new step and one that Jared was only too happy to take when he pulled Jensen close to settle in his arms. 

Jensen tensed again, uncertain in the circle of Jared's embrace, but after a lifetime of suffocating touches, Jared couldn't really blame him for taking a while to adjust to hugs. "You okay?"

Resting his head against Jared's shoulder, Jensen gave a tiny nod. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I- I'm okay. Kind of scared but okay."

He wasn't kidding about the fear. Jared could feel it thrumming through him, even past the contentment that settled over both of them like snow, and he kissed Jensen's forehead in reassurance. 

"I'm not gonna lie, I'm scared too," he admitted. "But we got a cabin in the mountains and a magical mindmeld thing on our side." 

He gave Jensen the most cheerful grin he could manage. "What could go wrong?"


End file.
